


Distance Crossed

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-15
Updated: 2001-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Skinner and Mulder's relationship faces a crisis during the events of Sein Und Zeit and Closure.





	Distance Crossed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Distance Crossed by frogdoggie

TITLE: Distance Crossed  
NAME: frogdoggie  
E-MAIL:   
CATEGORY: SRA  
RATING: NC-17. M/SK. This story contains very explicit slash i.e. m/m sex. So, if you don't like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.   
SUMMARY: Skinner and Mulder's relationship faces a crisis during the events of Sein Und Zeit and Closure. This story is part of a series that started with "Closing the Distance" and continued in the "Mirabile Visu" stories. You'll want to read those before you read this story. Missing a part of this story or just want to read more of my fic? Then surf here: http://www.squidge.org/3wstop   
FEEDBACK: YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm my body and mind.  
ARCHIVE: Sure. Anywhere - as long as my name and e-mail addy stay on it.  
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: SR819. Avatar. Biogenesis, Sixth Extinction, Amor Fati, Sein Und Zeit and Closure. Actually...pretty much the whole series up to Closure.  
KEYWORDS: story slash Skinner Mulder NC-17  
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use.  
I'd like to dedicate this story to RJ. You're the best, my friend. The real thing. And thanks to Susan for beta too.

* * *

Distance Crossed  
by frogdoggie

Saturday, February 26, 2000. A loft next door to the Lone Gunmen's offices.

Cold. It's a cold, late winter day. A cold wind blows outside this murky, stained window. I can just make out trash blowing outside in the wind's wake. My breath frosts the glass, adding to the opaqueness. You know, if I clean these windows I could probably see the wind nudging up waves on the Potomac in the distance. Maybe I should clean the windows later. It'd give me something to do after all.

I turn away and sit down on the wooden bench against the wall. My down overcoat bunches up a bit. I shift to smooth it out under me. My exhalation is a sigh. My breath still shows a little in the air as I survey the open space of the loft. The heat hasn't quite reached this far yet. I can hear the pipes as the hot water moves through them. They clank a bit as the radiators percolate, building up steam...but they don't quite drown out the sound of the cold wind.

The wind outside matches the cold chill that prickles in my stomach and threatens to turn my testicles to snowballs. God, I hope he shows up. I hope to hell what we've been through over the last few weeks hasn't fucked what we have together three ways to Sunday.

I stare off across the loft trying to engage my brain, but you know, I think I'm shell-shocked to be honest. I know I feel like I've been through a war...and if I feel this way, I know Skinner probably feels the same, if not worse. After all, he had to put up with me as well as everything surrounding the Amber Lynn LaPierre case. I would imagine his brain feels like mush right about now.

My mother's dead, my sister's dead as well. The words just pop into my head as I sit and stare. Oh hell...I know my mind's going to play back everything now...yet again. I feel my hand come up and rub at my temple. Damn it, Teena...right up until the end you had to nurture that love/hate relationship we had didn't you? For God's sake...I want to love you...you are after all, my mother. 

I...I don't even know what to say to you now when we have these one-sided conversations, though. What to say about you either. Should I pity or condemn you? Blame you for...for what? I try not to despise you based on what I think you did. However, it's hard to hate someone when you think they may not be any more guilty of imperfection than you. But my head hurts trying to decide what kind of memories to have about you, mother mine. What to put on your tombstone when I finally have the time and energy to commission one. Ah...fuck it. What's done is done. I can mourn at least...but I can get on with things too.

But you know...I wish to hell you'd waited just a little longer, Mom. If you hadn't ended it when you did I could have told you what a heroine your daughter was...how gutsy a little girl you brought into the world. I could have shown you her diary...you could have read what heart Samantha had...you could have seen how that heart helped her to endure what she did. And maybe if that seared itself into your brain enough it would have meant something. Maybe...maybe it would have meant we could have been mother and son at last...no matter how briefly. Maybe I could have said I was sorry for not understanding...and you could have said...well...you could have made me understand.

But heart...that's what everything's about isn't it? Even between you and me. The heart...giving us the power to love as well as hate, giving us the power to endure...and giving us agony when it breaks as mine is doing now at the prospect that Skinner may walk away and I'll never be able to tell him I'm sorry and he means so much to me.

I shouldn't have asked to be assigned to Amber Lynn's case. I know it was because I saw Samantha written all over it. I had one of those hunches where she was concerned and like a moth to a flame I was drawn to Skinner's office that night.

And Walter, God bless him, tried to dissuade me. When he saw me in the office doorway I knew I'd made a strategic error in coming there to confront him amongst all those agents. He was uncomfortable at having to deal with the man who just hours before had been lying between his legs, fucking him senseless. We'd agreed to not mix lust and J. Edgar Hoover. I should have remembered that agreement.

When I showed up he had to handle me as the AD...and he didn't see a reason to assign me at first. He was going to let me know it too. However, when he was standing in the doorway arguing with me I could tell he was desperate to find that little girl. And of course finding her quickly was in my mind as well. I'm not a totally selfish bastard. But I have a big enough ego in some ways. I had enough confidence in my abilities to know I could find Amber Lynn. I also figured Skinner probably knew that in the back of his mind as well.

It wasn't politically correct for me to be there buttonholing him like that for my own reasons but I did it anyway...for myself and I thought for Amber Lynn's benefit as well. But who am I kidding? Basically I stood there and used our relationship to pressure Skinner to assign me and he did, maybe against his better judgment even though he wanted to use the best tools i.e. including me to get results.

In the long run, maybe he was right because I know the case got away from me. I mismanaged the press...I stepped on a lot of toes. Walter was incensed and I couldn't blame him. He let me run with things and I screwed up royally. A little girl's life was at stake and he thought my actions were jeopardizing the case and therefore her chances at being found alive. In the end it didn't matter because poor Amber Lynn was dead before we even got the case...but that still doesn't negate my mistakes.

To make matters worse, when he was reprimanding me, Scully came in and announced that my mother was dead. Two expressions passed across Skinner's face. The first silently asked me why I hadn't told him my mother was ill. The second told me he felt like an asshole for yelling at me when my mother might have been ill and dying. I promptly made *myself* an asshole by getting up and leaving without giving him a clue that I was at fault and he wasn't out of line at all.

The only saving grace in this whole disaster was that Skinner, Scully and I caught the killer and found all those graves at Santa's North Pole Village. I guess I can feel somewhat vindicated in that if Amber Lynn's mother hadn't told me what her spirit said, Scully wouldn't have thought to check the road map for route 74. I guess I can take some solace that those graves led me eventually to Samantha.

But I disappeared on Skinner for a whole week. We just...Scully and I just left him in the dark while we followed the lead on Samantha...and was that fair? No. And damn it to hell...we never sat down with Scully and had it out regarding anything to do with Skinner and my relationship. I should have insisted, taken the initiative and set up a meeting. That was a monumentally stupid example of pathetic procrastination if I ever saw it.

I know Skinner thinks I'm fucking her. I just know it. The morning he showed up at my apartment door and Scully answered it I could see it in his face despite the fact he clamped that feeling down fast. I knew he came over to make sure I was ok after getting the news about my mother as well as to deliver the news we had to fly to California. 

He's not proud of his jealousy. Skinner tries not to give into it because he sees it as insecurity and I know he wants to trust me too. I never gave him a chance to express anything he felt that morning or afterwards either. I just left him for a week and let him stew in his own juices. Is it any surprise that my repeated calls to him when I got back this weekend have only reached his answering machine? I did him a terrible disservice and I don't blame him for being angry and pulling back. Now...now I don't even know if he's going to show up here so we can try to talk it out.

I sigh and this time I don't see my breath. The heat's kicking in and it's getting pleasantly warm in the loft. I shift and try to shake off my morose thoughts. Well, I might as well clean the windows, I think, standing to remove my overcoat. I can make this place look a little more presentable in the spirit of optimism. That's right...maybe it'll be like making rain by washing your car. Mulder can wash the windows and Skinner will show. That brings a grim smile to my lips. Yeah...well the last time I washed my car it was 90 and as sunny as hell the next day. Turning, I take one last look out the grimy glass in front of me. No sign of his Olds or the Jeep yet. I head off towards the stationary tub where I know I saw some cleaning materials.

xXx

I'm dumping the bucket of soapy water into the stationary tub at one end of the loft space, when I hear the wooden and metallic creaking that signals the private elevator is rising to the loft level. I set the plastic bucket down quickly and wipe my hands on some paper towels. 

I have just enough time to walk across the room to stand in front of the elevator as it rises to this floor. As a precaution, I have my hand on the butt of my Smith and Wesson. I'm holding my breath. When the top of the wooden gate crests the loft floor level I finally exhale and drop my hand as well. 

Skinner's standing there in his black trench. FBI daywear. Shit...he must have been at the Hoover putting in OT.

He looks tired and tense, I think, as the elevator comes to a stop. His large hand reaches forward and slides the gate aside. He steps silently into the loft and stares at me for a moment. His face is like stone, and it's clear he doesn't want to make the first move.

"You got my message," I finally state to break the silence.

"All of them," he rumbles, walking forward and past me to the newly cleaned windows.

Ok, so this is going to be as hard as I thought it'd be.

"So...uh...you were working?" 

I feel idiotic asking that obvious question as I turn and approach his back. His posture is ramrod straight. I can see his taut jaw muscles even from behind his head.

"Yes," he replies as I draw up next to him and face his profile. He glances at me. "Why am I here, Mulder?" he adds, turning then to face me as well.

The flat, dead tone of his voice practically makes my guts turn to water. 

"I...I want to say I'm sorry," I whisper into his desolate eyes.

The anger boils up in him and explodes so fast I have no time to react.

"You should be, you cocksucking bastard," he roars, grabbing two handfuls of my sweater and shouting into my face. "You...you have no fucking idea what you did to me!" 

His face twists in wrath and with one hard shove he pushes me away so that I fly backward. Desperately, I windmill my arms to keep from falling on my ass and as I do, he slams his hands palms open, into the window. The glass shakes, making a hollow thudding sound in the window frame.

"Jesus!" I yell, regaining my balance and grabbing at the arm he's now cocking back, this time with his hand in a fist. I'm afraid he'll break his hand if it impacts the glass that hard again.

For a moment we grapple, he feels as strong as a God damned bull, as he rips his arm out of my grasp and stumbles. Then I'm shouting at him, spraying spit in my fear and anger.

"Come on then, hit *me*! Knock my fucking head off, Walter. I deserve it!"

He straightens up, breathing hard, and I think...here it comes, he's really going to let me have it.

"I only want the answer to one question," he pants, studying my face.

"Ask it for God's sake," I reply, breathing hard myself.

"Are you sleeping with her?" he whispers, holding my eyes.

And there it is...just what I thought he wanted to know but has been afraid to ask. 

"Skinner...I won't lie to you..." I begin.

"Fuck...that's all I need to hear," he curses, turning on his heel and heading for the elevator.

"Shit," I curse in return, and hurry after his rapid stride.

"Walter...no...wait..." I call after him. He keeps walking but I catch him before he reaches the elevator gate. 

Grabbing his coat sleeve, I pull hard, whirling him around. He's so pissed off I can feel his arm vibrating beneath the cloth.

"You really are asking for it," he growls.

"Go ahead and hit me if it'll make you feel better," I reply quickly, letting go of him and stepping back. "But it won't stop me from loving you. And it won't stop me from telling you the truth. I know I've been a bastard...I took advantage of our relationship to get assigned to the LaPierre case when we promised we'd never mix business with pleasure. I fucked up with the press for the most part and let you down professionally. I disappeared with Scully and didn't tell you I was following up leads on Samantha...but, Walter...you have to believe me...on my honor...I'm not involved with Scully in any way except as a partner."

I let it all out in a rush as Skinner stares at me, his chest rising and falling, his anger still radiating off him like a white, hot solar flare. I watch him swallow and make a monumental effort to rein in his ire.

"So, she stayed the night but you didn't sleep with her?" he asks, his voice low.

"I didn't say that," I reply quietly.

"Mulder..." he snarls in warning.

"I fell asleep with my head in her lap for Christ's sake, Skinner. She sat there asleep sitting up the whole damn night so she wouldn't disturb me. I was strung out...a wreck and she showed up to check on me. I...I lost it and she was just there to pick me up again. She...she does that a lot, Walter. She...she's my best friend for crying out loud...and I'm not fucking her." 

My voice rose at the end and I felt tears of frustration and grief welling up in my throat. Grief from remembering that night and grief and frustration because I wasn't sure I could make Skinner realize I loved Scully, but I wasn't in love with her. I was in love with him and I also wasn't sure he was ever going to trust or love me again.

Skinner studies my face. Both of us stand in silence, breathing in tandem as we struggle with our emotions. The seconds tick by and finally I can see the anger start to drain out of him like water out of a reservoir when the dam's opened up.

"Truth?" he grates out, still watching my face. I pour every ounce of sincerity I have in my body into my eyes.

"Yes," I reply.

His shoulders relax and he sighs, dropping his eyes. Then he moves, walking past me again and heading with heavy steps to the long bench under the windows. He pushes my coat aside and sits down heavily, bending over to put his head in his hands.

"I'm getting too old for this shit," he comments, his voice rough.

I cross over, sit down next to him and rub his back.

"I really am sorry. I...should have called you from the road but things just didn't work out. I know you were worried...and I had an idea what was going through your mind."

Skinner straightens up under my hand and I remove it from between his shoulder blades.

"Yes, you should have," he replies not sugar coating his disapproval. "If nothing else, it's procedure, Mulder. We've been down that road before. Once in a while even I expect you to adhere to proper FBI procedure. Besides...you scared me shitless. I had no idea where you were or if something had happened to you and Scully. And Mulder...everything you said, about taking advantage of our relationship, about messing up with the press, about embarrassing me professionally...you did."

"Everything I said? Even what I said about loving you?" I interject quietly.

"Apparently that's accurate as well," he replies giving me a ghost of a smile. For the first time since he got to the loft I feel a shred of hope that things will work out. "But I'm not going to excuse anything you did," he adds, serious again.

"I know," I agree. "I don't expect you to excuse it."

"We're going to have to get something straight, Mulder...I can't live this way. We're going to have to show each other more respect. I'll admit I have to learn to trust you more and be less jealous, and I have to get on the stick and stop putting off talking to Scully because that's not fair to either of you. But...you're going to have to meet me halfway on the rest of that shit...or..."

I stretch my hand out and caress his tight jaw. His beard stubble is rough under my fingers.

"I'll meet you more than halfway, Walter. I promise not to fuck up as badly again. I mean it. I don't want to lose you...I want this to work," I murmur, resting my hand on the side of his neck.

He nods a little and sighs tilting his head into my hand.

"All right," he whispers.

I caress his neck for a moment and then he looks up.

"Mulder...you said you had a lead on your sister," he says, his voice soft and cautious.

xXx

Of course he doesn't know. That's something else I haven't had a chance to tell him. I remove my hand and he straightens up, fixing me with an inquiring look.

"Mulder?"

"Scully...Scully and I ended up at April Air Force Base. I found a diary..." I let my voice trail off for a moment and look out the window at the frothy waves I can now see on the Potomac.

"Whose diary?" Skinner whispers, his brow furrowing in concern.

I turn back to him and breathe out slowly.

"My sister's diary. Evidently Samantha lived at that base for a time...with CGB Spender and Jeffrey Spender if the evidence we found is reliable. She...she was held against her will, could remember very little about where she came from originally and they...they did tests..." my voice falters again and I feel Skinner's hand come up and hug my shoulder.

"God damn it to hell," he curses, pulling me close.

I let my head rest on his shoulder as he rubs my bicep. His warm, now gentle presence allows me to finish what I need to say.

"The diary entries stop rather abruptly and...uh...well...she was a very brave young woman really. She escaped when she was 14 and after that things get rather confusing."

"Is she dead, Mulder?" Skinner asks softly.

There isn't a clear-cut answer to that question to be honest. I suppose in a way you could say she's gone as much as Amber Lynn LaPierre and all the other children who were threatened with horrendous deaths are gone to that peaceful place I saw them in. I know I have closure now in realizing Sam's in a place where she's at rest and can never be hurt again.

"Yes, she is," I finally answer because really that's the truth, and it's also the answer that Walter will understand the best. He doesn't ask how or where after I tell him. He doesn't seem to think it's important for him to know right now...and maybe not at all. 

"I'm...I'm so sorry," he murmurs. "Christ...I'm sorry about your sister and your mother too."

I nod my head and he just holds me close while tears fall silently down my cheeks. After a few seconds I feel dampness from his eyes on my temple as well and I shift in even closer and snake my arm around his waist.

We sit there in silence for quite some time and finally he shifts and removes his arm. I sit up straight and both of us briskly wipe our eyes. I have to smile a little in self-deprecation. I know we're going to act all macho now and deny we were sharing that moment for the time being. It's a way to distance ourselves from all the turbulent emotions of the last hour or so. 

Walter looks around then, blinking in the fading overcast afternoon light. He clears his throat and gestures expansively at the surroundings.

"So, uh...what's with the loft?"

I smile a bit again and stand, extending my hand to him. He raises an eyebrow but allows me to pull him up. I give his hand a squeeze and release it.

"Well...this loft is kind of my peace offering," I begin, making a sweeping gesture to encompass it. "Remember when we...we talked about a place of our own..."

"This loft?" he asks, chuckling a little.

"Well yeah...uh...you don't like it?"

"Don't you think it needs a little...something, Mulder?" 

I chuckle then too.

"Of course, but that's part of the experience, cleaning it, decorating it..."

"You're talking sweat equity," Skinner observes craning his neck up to look into the natural wood beams that are set into the ceiling. I take in the muscular column of his neck and the image of him sweating, shirtless in carpenter's pants while we work to make this place a home suddenly makes me very warm.

"What's the matter, Skinner...you afraid of a little sweat?" I tease, putting my hands on my hips.

He gives me a sarcastic look which I know isn't really serious.

"Where did you get this place?" he asks, deflecting my question.

"Don't you recognize the neighborhood?"

"Oh shit...those three hackers...they're next door aren't they?"

"Bingo," I laugh. "When this building went up for sale they purchased it for us actually...although John Byers' name is on the mortgage. Uh...let's see. Oh...I'm making the mortgage payments though. The Gunmen have first dibs on the floors below us if we want to renovate them and not use them ourselves. And of course they're helping with the security arrangements."

I watch Skinner pivot and turn slowly. As he walks around a bit, I follow. He takes things in as the sun starts to set and his shadow grows longer on the floor. He's silent for a while and I start to worry that he isn't pleased with the idea. That he's going to reject it for some reason and I'll have to sell the place or have Byers rent it out.

"Is the electricity turned on, Mulder...or did you bring a flashlight?" he asks finally, undoing the buttons on his coat and opening it. He turns and smiles at me. "If we're going to give some thought to decorating this place, I'd like to see what I'm doing."

I break into a huge grin.

"Does that mean you're in favor of cohabitation here, sir?"

"Yes, Agent Mulder...it means I'm in favor of shacking up with you in this uh...shall we say 'fixer upper'?" he answers with a gruff chuckle.

I laugh then and impulsively step forward and throw my arms around Walter's shoulders. He doesn't need any further encouragement, his arms reach around my waist, pull me close, and our mouths are clamped together in seconds flat.

I pour all the love I feel for him into the kiss, begging for his forgiveness and he answers in kind, sucking me in, devouring me, taking my breath away and I give it to him willingly. When our lips part, I gasp.

"Forgive me," he mumbles, nuzzling my neck. "I should never have grabbed you like that earlier. It was way out of line."

"Walter...I specialize in making people want to hit me sometimes. Don't worry about it. I would have been less upset if you hit me than if you'd broken your hand smacking the window."

He runs one big hand through my hair, caressing my skull. His deep, brown eyes play over my face. I can see relief and his love for me written in his eyes.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too," he answers. "And you know...you look fantastic in moonlight," he chuckles.

The sky must have cleared because moonlight *is* streaming in now through the expanse of glass that fronts the loft. 

"Come on," I whisper, taking his hand.

I pull him after me as I walk to the windows. He follows and when we reach the low bench he comes up behind me. I pull his arms around my waist and his black trench shelters me close to his warm, muscular bulk. We stand looking out over the other warehouses at the rippling moon and starlight on the dark waters of the Potomac.

"It is a great view," he rumbles in my ear, hugging me to him. I run my arms up and down his coat sleeves and then hug his arms to my chest. We stand there for several minutes silently enjoying each other's company, savoring the feeling of our bodies pressed together again after being apart under such stressful conditions. Our breathing calms and a peacefulness settles over us both.

Presently I feel Skinner shift a little and then press himself closer. A few seconds later he moves again and I can feel his cock against the cleft in my ass. 

"Hold still," he whispers and I smile as he presses his cock into me and starts to move it sensuously up and down.

"Why AD Skinner...are you coming on to me in public?"

"We're not in public...we're in our...uh...living room?" he purrs, sliding himself back and forth and then up and down again between my butt cheeks.

"In front of the curtainless windows," I tease, rocking with him as he increases the speed of his movement slightly.

"It's dark...we're five flights above the street, and this neighborhood is low-traffic...day and night."

"Ah...I see," I reply a little breathlessly.

"I thought you might," Skinner answers, snaking his right hand from my waist down to my zipper. I still my hips to give him better access.

With an agile movement he undoes my pants, insinuates his hand through my fly, negotiates past my boxer briefs and fishes out my penis. It lies easily in his large palm and strong, callused fingers.

"I'm gonna get you hard, Mulder...and then I'm gonna fuck your brains out," he growls.

"I have a condom in my wallet," I pant as he starts to pump my dick.

"Now that's more like it, Agent...good operational procedure," he compliments, chuckling close to my ear.

"Oh...that's...Jesus...that's good," I mumble as he deftly works my swelling flesh. I continue to hold onto one of his arms and then I arch my neck as he kisses and nuzzles along my jawline while he works me.

I can feel him thrusting against my ass, and his cock growing firm as he does so. In a few minutes under his fist, I'm as hard as a rock. He gives my glans one last thumbing and then steps back out of my grasp.

"Hang on, I want to shuck this coat," he advises.

I nod, and reach around to get my wallet and ID out of my back pocket and my gun off my belt. It doesn't take me long to retrieve the condom and I set it, along with my wallet, ID and weapon, on the bench. I pull and then kick off my work boots, standing there in my stocking feet afterwards. Then I reach for the belt on my jeans, unbuckling it. It takes me a bit of gentle pulling and pushing to get my jeans and boxer briefs down past my erection. But in a moment I'm standing bare-assed in the moonlight. 

I glance around and see Skinner has already removed his coat and suit coat and put them on the end of the bench over my coat. He removes his shoes too. His gun comes off his belt and gets placed on top of his suit coat. His glasses follow. Then he lowers his slacks and briefs as well. I can hear the clink of metal from his belt buckle and change in his pocket. The 'thunk' of what must be his wallet and ID in his back pocket as it connects with the wooden floor too. His cock is almost erect. He steps out of the clothing on the floor and starts to walk over in stocking feet to the other end of the bench. 

"Stand still," I tell him with a grin and he complies.

I kneel down at his feet, my knees on my clothing, and move aside his white cotton shirttails. His heavy cock feels like a warm steel bar covered in soft kid leather as I take it in hand and work my mouth down over it.

"Oh yeah," Skinner hisses between clenched teeth.

Sucking Skinner's cock isn't an easy task, because although he's pleasingly endowed flaccid, he's a grower...he's large when he's fully erect. But I have practically no gag reflex and love the full feeling I get when I suck him. Feeling my mouth and throat stretch to accommodate him is really a turn-on.

He rests his hands on my shoulders and we move together for a few minutes, my mouth sliding over him and his hips gently thrusting his cock toward the back of my throat. When he's fully hard I let my lips slide away, lapping at the pre-cum on the tip of his glans as I pull back.

"Damn, Mulder...that was incredible," he smiles down at me. 

I stand up, step close and he's in my arms. We kiss again and I shove my tongue in hard and fast, shot-gunning his pre-cum and my saliva into his mouth. He takes it greedily, mixes it with his saliva and passes it back, and both of us clutch at each other, our cocks sliding over our thighs, leaving damp streaks on our skin.

When we break apart he's breathing hard.

"Where's the condom?" he asks, glancing toward the bench.

"There," I indicate and he steps around me to go get the rubber.

I walk over to the bench and bend down, placing my hands apart on the wooden seat to brace myself. My sweater slides down towards my pecs a bit. My ass is placed naturally at a good angle as Skinner comes up behind me. I glance around and watch as he rolls the lubricated latex over his glans and then down his shaft. When he straightens he reaches between my legs and fondles my balls. I bite my lower lip.

"I love the feel of these," he mumbles, rolling my nuts around in his fingers a little. He runs his finger firmly along my perineum and I shudder in pleasure.

"I love *that*," I reply, looking at our reflection in the window before me.

"Mmm," he answers, reaching up and taking my cock in his right fist. He pumps it with firm, quick strokes, driving me almost crazy with the sensation of that and the fingers on his left hand stroking my perineum over and over.

"Oh fuck...oh...wait," I warn him. If he keeps that up, I'll come.

Skinner stops immediately and gently releases my cock with a chuckle.

"Sorry, I got carried away." 

I wriggle my ass invitingly and he caresses my hip. Then he puts the index finger of his right hand in his mouth and slicks it up with saliva

"You need any prep?" he asks, putting his lubricated finger between my ass cheeks. He rubs around my anus.

"I'm pretty hot...I should be loose enough," I breathe out.

"All right," he says, removing his finger.

I spread my feet apart further as he moves in close. I can feel him take his cock up and press the head to my anus. I take a deep breath and he pushes his glans into me. Once he uses his fingers to pop the head in, he takes my hips in his hands and thrusts forward slowly. I breathe out and then inhale again, repeating the process as my body adjusts to him.

"Uh...good," I grunt as his length begins to fill my rectum. There's some pain as he hits my sphincter but it's gone quickly as I feel the pop inside that tells me he's moving past the muscle.

"Oh yeah, lover...good...and tight," Skinner hisses between clenched teeth.

In short order his balls are almost flush with mine and he stretches his upper body over my back, resting his head between my shoulders.

"You ok?" he asks quietly.

"Oh yeah," I assure him. We lay still, basking in the feeling of being connected this way for a few moments. Then I sigh in satisfaction. "Your cock feels great. I really love the way it fills me up. Can you put it in just a little deeper?" I ask.

He raises up and kisses me tenderly on the back of my neck.

"Sure," he nods. He gives his hips a short thrust and sinks farther up my ass.

"Mmm...that's perfect," I reply, craning my head around to give him a smile.

"I love being in you, especially this deep," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It feels...it just feels so right." 

I nod, smiling wide, and then turn my head back, tucking my chin into my chest. Arching my back a little more I improve the angle for both of us. Walter straightens up, moving his feet to get better leverage. He shifts his cock back and forth inside me and the change in position sends a jolt of pleasure flashing through my body.

"Oh man...yes," I gasp out.

"Here we go," Skinner advises, taking my hips.

He pulls his ass back a little and then thrusts forward sliding smoothly in between my ass cheeks and then out. After a few thrusts we're moving easily together, establishing a comfortable rhythm and the feeling is marvelous. As soon as we're humping well enough, Skinner reaches between my legs and begins to jerk my cock slowly in time with his thrusts up my ass.

I look up and see our reflections in the darkened window glass again. Walter's powerful body is illuminated by moonlight behind me, his muscular arms stretched out, one hand gripping my hip, the other pulling my dick. His strong chest rises and falls with each panting breath as he pumps into me. Head bent slightly, he watches his cock plunging in and out of my ass. I get a rush at the idea he's watching it fuck me.

"Look up," I grate out and he does, catching sight of himself in the window. "Let me watch your face."

He grimaces a smile, his teeth white in the light coming through the window, and keeps his head up as he starts to thrust harder.

"Oh yeah, that's it you fucker, that's it," I groan.

I keep looking at his reflection and see eyes shut and mouth drop open, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he gives himself over completely to the experience. He really goes to town on my cock, yanking it and palming the head with sure, confident strokes. Finally it's enough and I feel my orgasm start to build in my groin.

"Ohhhh," I moan, shutting my eyes and blotting out the vision of Skinner plunging his hard cock deep inside my body. 

"Oh yeah, babe, almost...almost," Walter encourages me. He changes the angle of his thrusts a little, dragging the head of his cock back over my prostate and then a powerful wave of molten ecstasy explodes out of my balls and I cry out, my voice rising to a primal howl.

"UHGAHHHOD!" 

Cum spurts out of my cock and splatters the bench in front of us. I match Skinner's more frantic thrusts, my neck and back arch, muscles growing taut. Sweat breaks out over my face, neck and chest. I can feel it running down underneath my sweater. Skinner keeps pulling my dick, and I moan incoherently.

Finally Walter can't hold back, he's losing control and has to drop my cock. He grips both my hips again and starts to thrust like hell. He's gone, his hips jerking rapidly driving his erection in and out of me as my rectum clamps down on it.

"Fuck, fuck," he grunts. 

His balls and thighs slap against mine several more times and then I feel his cock pulse inside me. 

"FUHHCK!" he roars, driving into me in utter abandon as his own climax obliterates all rational thought.

Skinner's whole body convulses and I grip the bench firmly to take the onslaught of his powerful thighs rocking as he brings himself off. Four more quick snaps of his hips are punctuated by a deep groan each time, and then he starts to slow his thrusts. His movements become spastic as he breathes heavily and then his hips still at last.

"Christ," he huffs, leaning over me and gingerly resting his bulk on my back. He's gasping, his chest heaving. His arms hold onto my waist.

I chuckle still quite breathless myself.

"You outdid yourself."

Skinner reaches back and caresses my ass.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure...it was fantastic."

"Oh, I'll second that," he chuckles, stroking my sweating hip.

Then slowly, he lifts himself off me using his abs, standing upright behind me again. My legs are shaking a little and my breath is coming in huffs as well. We take a minute to let our hearts slow down and our breathing come back to normal.

When both of us don't sound like locomotives any longer, I feel Skinner's hand between my legs and then at my anus. He holds the base of the condom tight against his dick and steps back, sliding out of my ass. I stretch my legs a little, stand and then shake them to get the kinks out. 

"You never answered my question about the flashlight," he comments with a chuckle. "Now I'm going to have to ask if you've got a trash can." Skinner looks around as he peels the used condom off. 

"Yes, *we* have a trashcan," I amend, my expression wry when he raises his head. "There's a ten gallon drum over by the stationary tub."

"Ah, right," he nods. "So, now I stumble around in the dark trying to find both the stationary tub and the trash can?" His mouth turns down in a mock scowl.

"We have electricity. I had the guys arrange to have it turned on. And..." I cross to my overcoat and fish in one of the pockets, pulling out my halogen flashlight. "I also have a flashlight so we can find the fuse box."

"Yeah, well we'd better find the sink first, wash up and dress. When the lights come on I don't want to take a chance one of your geek friends gets an eyeful," Skinner remarks.

"It's a little late for that don't you think?" I chuckle.

He shrugs. 

"Ok...but this way they only got one free show."

I laugh, shake my head in amusement and snap on the flashlight.

"All right, far be it for me to titillate them twice."

Skinner laughs and falls in at my side.

xXx

Walter and I gather up our clothes, my wallet and the guns, and then walk to the stationary tub at the end of the loft using the flashlight to illuminate our way. Walter disposes of the condom and we clean up and then dress. When I finish buckling my belt and prepare to head back across the loft to the fuse box, Skinner lays his hand on my arm.

"Wait," he murmurs. 

I raise an eyebrow but then smile as he moves close.

"Thank you," he mumbles shyly and then he gently takes my chin in his hand and kisses me softly on the lips.

When we part I caress the side of his face. 

"I think you're the one who deserves the thanks."

"Come back to Crystal City with me," he rumbles, stepping back a little. "You can thank me some more later tonight and tomorrow."

I laugh.

"Yeah, I'd like that." 

Skinner clears his throat.

"Lights?" he suggests, glancing around.

"Right," I smile.

It doesn't take us long to locate the fuse box and flip the circuit breaker. The lights hanging from the ceiling shine brightly, giving us a view again of just how much sweat equity we'll have to do to whip the loft into shape. Actually, it's not too dilapidated since it was used as rental storage space until quite recently. 

We wander around just brainstorming, doing some imagining out loud about where the furniture would go, the design of separate work areas, where Skinner could put some exercise equipment. And what about the kitchen? It's lucky the area is huge. With stuff for two people combined we'll need the space. Then the debate ensues as to whether we want an open concept living space or partitioned off areas, finally deciding on a combination of both, with things like the bedroom and bathroom areas screened off for privacy.

There is already a bathroom of sorts, the rental storage company had a restroom on the first floor office level and one up here in order to accommodate a guard making his rounds. The cubicle is next to the stationary tub. The plumbing still works and Skinner and I both avail ourselves of it, pissing in turn in the cracked toilet.

Finally, after emptying our bladders we end up back in the center of the loft, facing the elevator.

"I have some blueprints for this floor in the car. We can look at them tomorrow and make further plans."

Skinner gives a slight sigh.

"What?" I ask, studying his face for a clue to what he thinks is wrong.

"You know, Mulder...not to throw cold water on this idea...but we're going to have to talk about more than just decorating this place. We're going to have to decide how to cover the fact that we're living here at all," Skinner replies.

I sigh then as well and run my hand through my hair.

"Yeah...that's been in the back of my mind too. I got enthusiastic about just the prospect of living with you so I guess I was procrastinating on dealing with that particular issue."

"Well...we can talk about it tomorrow too. I'm thinking we can work out a way to pay the rent on both your apartment and my apartment to keep the addresses. We can get separate phones for here and forward the calls as well. It may be that we can't live here all the time. But, we'll see what we can come up with at any rate.

"Yeah, we'll do the best we can under the constraints available," I acknowledge hopefully.

"Ok, great," Skinner replies. He still seems a little distracted however, in fact he's been so for a few minutes and I'm not sure the matter about covering up our living arrangements is the only reason.

He glances at his watch. My eyes fall to mine as well in reaction. It's only 7 o'clock. I wonder what he has in mind? Dinner out? Suddenly he appears to come to a decision, nods a little and reaches into his coat pocket. When he brings out his cell phone I raise an eyebrow.

"What's up...dinner arrangements?" 

He shakes his head.

"No. At least not for tonight. But I'm going to do something I should have done a long time ago," he replies.

My brow furrows as he punches in a number and then puts the phone to his ear. In a few seconds he's speaking into the receiver, and not looking at me as he concentrates.

"Agent Scully. Yes...good evening."

Holy hell, I think...he's calling Scully. Calling her at home? He must have her home phone number memorized since he doesn't have it on speed dial.

"No...everything's fine. I hope I didn't disturb you." 

Jesus, she's home alone on a Saturday night again. I wish...I wish she'd date...find someone to spend some time with besides me. I start to frown a little over that thought when Skinner draws my attention again.

"Oh...well if you need to take the other call..." Skinner replies. "Ah...I see. Yes, that flu's going around. I'm sorry to hear it."

By this point, I'm making motions with my hands, Skinner notices and frowns at me a little. I mouth the words "Is she sick?"

He shakes his head and mouths back 'her mother' and then goes on talking. Ok...I guess she's at home so she can have a nice long talk with her mother. I'll have to remember to ask her about her mom later on.

"Well...my call doesn't really pertain to official FBI business actually...and I know this will seem a bit unusual," Skinner continues. "But...I wanted to know if you'd do me and Mulder the honor of joining us for dinner tomorrow evening? That is if you don't have any other plans, of course."

I can just about hear the pregnant pause on the other end of the line as Scully processes *that* invitation. Skinner is quiet as well and after a few seconds, very attentive so I figure Scully must be answering.

"I can understand that...I realize the idea is stretching the bounds of professional conduct, but Scully...I...I feel we need to talk. I don't want to put any pressure on you, but I think I've been avoiding your feelings where Mulder and I are concerned and I'd like to give us all a chance to sit down and discuss it," he replies his voice quietly sincere.

He listens once more, and his face relaxes a little.

"I appreciate that, Scully. I know, and I feel that way too. I love him, Scully...I...I wouldn't want to see him hurt either."

The room is silent again for several moments as Skinner stands there with the cell phone to his ear. I look down at my feet because I'm a bit choked up at having two outstanding people care anything about me at all, much less my personal well-being. When I gain composure, I raise my head. Skinner is nodding a little. Then he gives me a thumbs up gesture.

"Where? I was thinking my apartment. It's private and secure at this point. We could arrange to have dinner there."

Skinner raises an eyebrow and then a small smile ghosts across his lips.

"No...we could order in if you'd like." I smother a laugh. I know Scully probably asked if I'd be cooking. She hates my cooking and I'll admit it...I'm a terrible chef. We usually order in if we're working late at my place. Skinner raises an eyebrow at me but I make a dismissive gesture. He shrugs and continues talking to Scully. "Or if you'd be amenable...I'd consider it an honor to cook for you."

I shake my head in amusement. Sometimes Walter can really pour on the charm. I hope his version of charm works however. My version of charm seems to have the opposite effect than desired with Scully on occasion.

"Great," he affirms with a genuine smile. "Uh...I make a passable Chicken Marsala...ah...ok, good. Yes...yes...a wine would work nicely...whatever type you'd like to bring. Oh...yes...about 6? Fine."

As they conclude the conversation I know I have a somewhat dazed smile on my face. I'm pleased that Skinner took the initiative to invite Scully, I'm pleased that she accepted his offer, and I'm vastly relieved that at last we'll get things out in the open. I have confidence we can clear the air. I have faith that all our concerns regarding Skinner and my relationship can be laid to rest.

Skinner speaks into the phone, his voice filled with polite but not guarded camaraderie with Scully. He confirms his address with her and makes sure she knows how to get to his apartment in Crystal City. Finally he severs the connection and shoves the cell phone back in his pocket.

"So...guess who's coming to dinner?" he quips, giving me a grin that shows all his teeth.

I laugh and grab him around the shoulders with one arm, hugging him to me.

"I could go all Nellie here and call you 'my hero' but then you probably would belt me," I reply. I plant a big kiss on his rough jaw and his ears redden. He bumps his hip into mine and then disengages himself. I can tell he's pleased at my teasing compliment but that his modesty is asserting itself as well.

"Well...like I said...it was something I should have done a while ago."

I give his shoulders a squeeze and let him go.

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have procrastinated either. I think both of us are equally at fault there."

He gives me a pat on the back.

"Well, we'll rectify the situation tomorrow night. Scully sounded good with the idea of discussing things. I think it'll go ok," he replies, giving me a quick smile.

"I think it'll be ok too. And if nothing else...she's gonna love your cookin'," I reply, chuckling.

"Yeah, she asked me if you'd be cooking like she's had more than one bad experience before," he advises with a gruff chuckle.

"Oh yeah...I won't deny it...if it involves anything more complicated than scrambled eggs or soup out of a can you're taking your life in your hands with my culinary abilities."

Walter laughs.

"So that's why you only volunteer to make breakfast?"

I laugh as well and Skinner looks at his watch again.

"We'd better get going," I comment.

"Yeah, I want to stop on the way and get some food before it gets too late. I've worked up an appetite." Skinner gives me a wry look of appreciation as he pulls his coat tighter around him.

"No shit, I'm starving," I agree, giving him a grin that says it's all his fault. "I'll just turn off the lights and turn down the thermostat. Why don't you wait here. I'll come back with the flashlight and we'll hit the road."

He nods and I start to walk away. 

"And Mulder?" Skinner says, bringing me up short. I turn around and look into his soft, brown eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I want this," he says, gesturing with his hand to encompass the loft. "I hope you know that's the truth."

I smile and nod at him in understanding.

"I know that, Ironman. I know that's definitely true."

-THE END-

  
Archived: 18:21 03/15/01 


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